best friend, she felt no joy in life. She couldn’t seem to find a way out of her melancholy and after seeing an article about mail order brides, she became curious. And here she was, some months later, a thousand miles from everything she knew.
“Pardon me, ma’am, might you be Ms. Jenny Mason?” a strong, deep voice asked, breaking her reverie.
She looked up into eyes of emerald and knew at once this was her intended. Feebly, she nodded her head yes, rapidly wondering if she had taken leave of her senses.
“I was beginning to think you might have changed your mind,” she confessed.
“No ma’am. My deepest apologies, but my wagon broke a wheel on the way to town.” It was then Jenny noticed the filth on his trousers. “This is not how I hoped our first meeting to go, but I didn’t want to take the time to clean up from fixing the wagon and keep you waiting any longer. Forgive my lack of cleanliness.”
Jenny’s heart warmed. Back home, she knew some ladies would be appalled at being greeted by a filthy fiancé, but not she. No, his words confirmed what she had felt through his letters. He was a considerate man, his need to ease her mind trumping the need to make a presentable appearance. That he could fix the wagon himself spoke of his skill and hard work. He would be a man she could depend on. Maybe one day, even love.
“Considering the circumstances, Mr. Thomas, there is no need for forgiveness.” She took hold of the hand Mr. Thomas held out and stood up.
“I’d be obliged if you call me John,” he said. “That is, if you’d still like to be married.”
“I haven’t changed my mind, John,” she answered, the familiar address feeling strange but exciting, rolling off her tongue. “And please call me Jenny.”
“Preacher Jones is expecting us. I had planned on us having time to grab a bite to eat beforehand and become better acquainted, but unfortunately the inciden t with wagon occurred. If you would feel more comfortable waiting until tomorrow, I can procure you a room for the night at the boardinghouse and return tomorrow.”
Again, Jenny was warmed at the thoughtfulness this man was showing. For the first time since meeting him several minutes ago, she took the time to observe him. He was a truly handsome man , and she couldn’t help but wonder why he could not find a bride without sending away for one. But she knew instinctively, that they could have a good life together. For the first time since her family had passed, she felt a glimmer of life return to her.
“There is no need for that. I came here with a purpose, and I intend to fulfil it,” she replied to him. The anxiety she had felt earlier was wearing off. Something about John set her at ease.
They walked over to the parsonage where a kind looking, portly man answered the door.
“I’ve been expecting you, John. And this must be Ms. Mason. It’s a pleasure to meet you ma’am. I am Preacher Jones.”
Jenny immediately liked this older man, pleased to see the town had a preacher who did not appear to be the hellfire and brimstone type. Vague recollections of her childhood flashed by her and she remembered a red-faced preacher who would always scream. Sunday’s terrified her and she was glad when they moved to a new town with a new preacher.
The preacher brought his wife out and introduced her. Mrs. Jones was as stout as her husband and had soft, gentle features. The woman took Jenny to a spare side room and helped her dress in her wedding gown. It may be a small wedding, but Jenny very much wanted to wear her mother’s gown. They left for the church next door and before they arrived at the building, Mrs. Jones stopped in her garden to cut a bouquet of flowers for Jenny.
The vows were recited and soon Jenny and John were pronounced man and wife. A peace that she couldn’t understand, washed over her. She didn’t feel as though she had married a stranger. Despite knowing this
“Pardon me, ma’am, might you be Ms. Jenny Mason?” a strong, deep voice asked, breaking her reverie.
She looked up into eyes of emerald and knew at once this was her intended. Feebly, she nodded her head yes, rapidly wondering if she had taken leave of her senses.
“I was beginning to think you might have changed your mind,” she confessed.
“No ma’am. My deepest apologies, but my wagon broke a wheel on the way to town.” It was then Jenny noticed the filth on his trousers. “This is not how I hoped our first meeting to go, but I didn’t want to take the time to clean up from fixing the wagon and keep you waiting any longer. Forgive my lack of cleanliness.”
Jenny’s heart warmed. Back home, she knew some ladies would be appalled at being greeted by a filthy fiancé, but not she. No, his words confirmed what she had felt through his letters. He was a considerate man, his need to ease her mind trumping the need to make a presentable appearance. That he could fix the wagon himself spoke of his skill and hard work. He would be a man she could depend on. Maybe one day, even love.
“Considering the circumstances, Mr. Thomas, there is no need for forgiveness.” She took hold of the hand Mr. Thomas held out and stood up.
“I’d be obliged if you call me John,” he said. “That is, if you’d still like to be married.”
“I haven’t changed my mind, John,” she answered, the familiar address feeling strange but exciting, rolling off her tongue. “And please call me Jenny.”
“Preacher Jones is expecting us. I had planned on us having time to grab a bite to eat beforehand and become better acquainted, but unfortunately the inciden t with wagon occurred. If you would feel more comfortable waiting until tomorrow, I can procure you a room for the night at the boardinghouse and return tomorrow.”
Again, Jenny was warmed at the thoughtfulness this man was showing. For the first time since meeting him several minutes ago, she took the time to observe him. He was a truly handsome man , and she couldn’t help but wonder why he could not find a bride without sending away for one. But she knew instinctively, that they could have a good life together. For the first time since her family had passed, she felt a glimmer of life return to her.
“There is no need for that. I came here with a purpose, and I intend to fulfil it,” she replied to him. The anxiety she had felt earlier was wearing off. Something about John set her at ease.
They walked over to the parsonage where a kind looking, portly man answered the door.
“I’ve been expecting you, John. And this must be Ms. Mason. It’s a pleasure to meet you ma’am. I am Preacher Jones.”
Jenny immediately liked this older man, pleased to see the town had a preacher who did not appear to be the hellfire and brimstone type. Vague recollections of her childhood flashed by her and she remembered a red-faced preacher who would always scream. Sunday’s terrified her and she was glad when they moved to a new town with a new preacher.
The preacher brought his wife out and introduced her. Mrs. Jones was as stout as her husband and had soft, gentle features. The woman took Jenny to a spare side room and helped her dress in her wedding gown. It may be a small wedding, but Jenny very much wanted to wear her mother’s gown. They left for the church next door and before they arrived at the building, Mrs. Jones stopped in her garden to cut a bouquet of flowers for Jenny.
The vows were recited and soon Jenny and John were pronounced man and wife. A peace that she couldn’t understand, washed over her. She didn’t feel as though she had married a stranger. Despite knowing this
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